POWER OF OBSERVATION
Ethnography in the Cold Light of Day
Prepared for Research Magazine by Dr Mark Thorpe, Director, SPA, January 2003

For the past few years, ethnography has become a more visible and more widely used technique within commercial qualitative research. A number of research companies now offer ethnography as a key qualitative tool. The suggested promise of ethnography is one of greater context and the exploration and exposure of everyday life, flaws and all. The premise underlying this inclusion of ethnography within the qualitative tool-kit, is that there is more, far more, to be discovered about everyday life if only we knew how to practice what we do a little differently. And of course doing things differently has an intrinsic appeal to those of us (all of us?) who feel the need to be ‘moving on’.

It is not only research companies that have been captivated by the promise of ethnography. It seems that almost everyone wants to hear about the approach. From research buyers to research practitioners, people frequently ask me about ethnographic research. Though their enthusiasm often far exceeds their knowledge, people are often intrigued and believe that ethnography could provide the missing route to a knowledge that could help transform their thinking. There is, however, often a look of hope in the eyes and a general demeanour which suggests faith rather than certainty. Ethnography, although courted, has yet to achieve a clear commercial identity.

Amidst all the fervour, ‘traditional’ ways of doing qualitative research – primarily group discussions – can seem to be way off the pace. It is ethnography people need and because they (and we) really need it they (and we) really want it. And because they (and we) really want it, it must be ‘right’! They (and we) really need ethnography to be ‘right’. But why and how has ethnography achieved such a vanguard position within commercial qualitative research?

Undoubtedly, commercial qualitative research has always existed within a rather nervous system in which research commissioning and provision was structured by a number of concerns held on each side of the ‘divide’. For example, some research buyers need persuading that qualitative research can deliver true, insightful and actionable results. It can often be a process of meticulous explanation and quality assurance in order to get research buyers such as these on board. Others build their faith in select individuals and often follow these people as they move between companies. Here faith reigns supreme, perhaps not least because of the researcher’s ‘magic’ in bringing together disparate qualitative strands into a meaningful presentation. A few research buyers (am I being overly optimistic here?) view qualitative research as akin to the western incarnation of Shamanism that has more to do with mumbo jumbo than it has to do with the expression of meaningful information. Be warned – the person shaking their head at the back of the room whilst leaning back on their chair and staring at the ceiling, may well be one of these!

Convincing doubters that qualitative research is valid can be extremely difficult. In the search for legitimacy, qualitative research has promised a number of things: depth, meaning, interpretation, flexibility, responsiveness, deconstruction, sensitivity to emotional drivers and, more recently insight. Each of these promises can be seen as an attempt to claim authority and build methodological credibility. Qualitative research has been restless in its desire to be seen as a valid gateway to the promised land of human understanding. But gateways require the right keys in order to be unlocked. And in our world(s) of research, it is through the creation of appropriate techniques (often incorrectly referred to as methodologies) that these unlocking keys are realised. ‘Innovation’ and the promised land of human understanding have been inextricably linked.

Now we have ethnography. Yet another ‘innovation’? Another ritual sacrifice at the great altar of legitimacy? It would be all too easy (and perhaps churlish) to call the current ‘interest’ (a suitably neutral term that can cover the spectrum from awareness to obsession) in ethnography a fad. In reality, the focus on ethnography is one part of a broader ‘cultural turn’ within commercial qualitative research, the key pillars of which are context, reality and the exposure of everyday life. To this extent, ethnography has a significant degree of fit with this broader cultural turn. Ethnography is about context. It’s about stripping back the layers and finding everyday life as it really is. Ethnography is (said to be) about all these things. But what is ethnography?

In order to avoid accusations of causing mass nausea, it will be better to keep our tour through the origins of ethnography brief. Essentially, the approach has its routes in the academic discipline of anthropology, and social anthropology in particular. In its early guise, doing ethnography involved travelling to more distant parts of the globe (distant from the western ‘homelands’ that is) and researching so-called primitive societies. This research involved immersing oneself in the day-to-day lives of communities and recording (primarily through extensive note-taking) the processes through which people lived and made sense of their lives. Areas of interest included language, specifically representation through language, the use of objects as everyday and more spiritual cultural forms and, often crucially, the composition and role of religion within society.

Academic ethnography has, in many ways, changed significantly since its early days. An important development has been the shift in focus away from studying so-called primitive societies towards developed societies. Specifically, there has been much more ethnographic attention paid to western urban societies and the various cultural processes – from watching television to community action initiatives – that make up these societies. This work often attempts to challenge our assumptions about the everyday worlds in which we live by showing us the detail and the reality of those worlds. Importantly, this new ethnography unravels the various layers of culture that make up the societies that we live in (and live through). Modern ethnography has experienced its own cultural turn.

There are other significant differences between ‘traditional’ and ‘modern’ ethnographies. Whereas traditional ethnography often involved a researcher spending years in the field, living with a community and sharing their lives, modern ethnography has a more flexible constitution. It is now acceptable for ethnographers to spend less time in the field; a good academic ethnography can be the result of months (rather than years) of fieldwork. Some contemporary ethnographies do not involve a researcher living in a community for the entirety of their research; it is ‘easier’ now for a researcher to leave and, if necessary, return to the field at a later date to continue the study.

In essence, modern ethnographies bring the taken-for-granted world back into focus. This can be troubling to our common sense world. But intellectual ‘troubling’ is no bad thing, at worst it keeps us thinking about the world in a different way. It’s starting to sound very good indeed and very much in keeping with the (supposedly) more flexible work culture of the new millennium. But hang on a minute! Nothing is that good, surely!

Indeed, while there is promise there are also limitations. Part of the problem is that much contemporary thinking about and use of ethnography within commercial research seems to be predicated on a fundamental conceit. This conceit has six dimensions. First, there appears to be the assumption that ethnography is just another method to be picked off the shelf when needed. Second, that ethnographic research can be squeezed into the time-frames currently used for ‘standard’ qualitative work. So, for example, a project can span four weeks and each ethnographic session can last two or three hours. Third, that it is possible to isolate those ‘bits’ of everyday life that we really need to focus on (and so reduce our time expenditure). Fourth, that researchers trained in traditional commercial techniques (principally groups and depths) are sufficiently skilled to undertake ethnographic work. Fifth, that ethnography itself delivers a product and the researcher acts as a conduit through which knowledge is conveyed. Finally, there is often an insinuation underlying the valorisation of ethnography that traditional qualitative techniques fail to deliver.

The following example helps illustrate the first three dimensions. Say, for example, we are interested in gaining a more detailed understanding of the role of mid-week meal occasions in family life. There is a definite need for context here. We think about what technique will deliver in this context. Ethnography has undoubted shelf presence in this situation. So we organise ‘ethnographic’ research to cover-off those mid-week meal occasions and expose the processes, structures and rituals that make the occasions meaningful. Time is limited so the research runs across two weeks (rather than many months). But how do we know the essence of mid-week meals lies in the mid-week meal occasion? In ethnography the researcher’s frame of reference should be as open as possible. But commercial constraints invariably mean that we reduce our frame of reference. In so doing, we potentially destroy the uniqueness of the ethnographic offer. Openness is the oxygen of ethnography.

To illustrate the fourth dimension, let’s start by thinking about the structure of commercial qualitative research, primarily the skills base of qualitative researchers. Skill levels obviously depend on factors such as education, experience and general aptitude. It is fair to say that many commercial qualitative researchers do not have a social science background. It is also fair to say that doing ethnography demands a significant degree of social scientific awareness and competency. Of those that do have a social science background, relatively few will be trained in the theory and practice of ethnography, in either its traditional or modern forms.

Although modern ethnography ‘allows’ the researcher to adopt a more flexible approach, it still requires a range of disciplinary skills. A poor researcher will be a terrible ethnographer because the demands are that much greater. A good researcher will struggle to do good ethnography for the same reason. Anyone can do ethnography, few can do it properly. Bad ethnography is about as much use as a chocolate fireguard; both may initially seem impressive – until the heat is on. And although ethnography is about understanding everyday life, everyday life is not like a pair of familiar shoes that we can slip into and out of at will. So why do we treat it as such?

With regard to the fifth point – that ethnography is presented as if it, as a technique, opens-up reality to us – there is much that can be said. (Again, the likely onset of nausea prevents too detailed a look). The primary conceit here is the failure to recognise that it is not the process of ethnography that delivers but the harnessing of the technique by skilled practitioners. Moreover, ethnography deals no more in raw fact than group discussions, depths or other techniques within the qualitative corpus. Researchers have more, rather than less, interpretation to do when using ethnography. Never shake an ethnographer by the hand until you know where he or she is coming from. There is no story that exists independently of analysis and interpretation.

Lastly, why is there such a rush to ‘dispose’ of traditional methods when, in the right hands, they can still deliver immensely valuable results? Perhaps it is not the traditional techniques that are at fault but those entrusted to deploy them – researchers. Yes, we must move on, but when necessary and to places where real advantage is to be found.

You may be forgiven for thinking my intention has been to raise the curtain on ethnography. Unfortunately, it’s a little more complicated than that because I do feel that ethnography has a role to play in commercial research. The problem lies primarily in how we think about ethnography and what we expect ethnography to do for us. Realistically, in research with a commercial emphasis aiming, for example, to understand consumer lifeworlds, ethnography can pose more problems than answers. Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule.

The territory where ethnography can be of greatest value to commercial researchers lies not in practice (i.e. actually doing ethnography) but in the written work of ethnographers who have undertaken in-depth, serious ethnographies over time. We need to move from seeing ethnography as purely something to do. Instead, we should see ethnography as reported knowledge that we can read and digest in order to give us new ideas and to help us think a little differently and a little better about the world.